


Surrender

by gneebee



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Connie TWD, Daryl Dixon Smut, Daryl Dixon/Connie AU, Donnie TWD, Donnie TWD FanFiction, F/M, Kindred Spirits, Love, Meant To Be, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 00:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gneebee/pseuds/gneebee
Summary: If what you seek is the warmth of someone special holding you in loving arms, then you're going to have to be strong enough to surrender.





	Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all. This is my maiden voyage writing for the Donnie Ship. It's a story I've thought about for a while and finally had an opportunity to put it on paper. I hope you enjoy it.

00

She wasn't much for going to bars. She wasn't much for going anywhere anymore. Ever since her loss she's become quite reclusive. She realizes it isn't the healthiest of lifestyles, but she also tells herself it's temporary. It's only going to be this way until she comes to terms with the loss.

She's not completely deceiving herself, she fully understands there's an excellent chance she will never come to terms with it.

* * *

She always keeps her cellphone in her pocket or on the desk next to her keyboard, somewhere she can either see or feel the vibration. Smartphones and texting are such a godsend for her. In the past she could only communicate by phone with other's who happened to own a TTY machine, a rarity among the hearing community. Texting has made it possible to communicate via phone with everyone she knows. When she wants to. Lately she hasn't wanted to very often.

It's Friday afternoon and she's busy working on an article when she sees and feels the phone began to vibrate. She smiles when his name and photo pop up, Luke. He messages he has an evening music class but he wants to see her. He asks if they can get together beforehand.

What he writes next makes her feel guilty. He says it's been too long since they talked. He asks her please don't say no again, consider meeting with him, just for an hour or so. There's a smiling emoji and he says he's sure he can handle a glass of wine and still teach, in fact he says he'll probably be a better teacher with a little buzz. There's a red wine emoji.

She tells herself she can't keep turning him down. She's done that to him way too many times. He's such a wonderful friend to her and she hasn't been being a good enough friend in return. She remembers something her Mother always told her, "If you want a friend you have to be a friend."

Before she can change her mind she texts back, "Yes, it sounds fun. Where and when?"

"There's a bar near my work. Never been but how bad can it be? Called Sundowner, corner Maple and eighth. 5:15?"

"Sounds shady, I'll be there."

"Good one. See ya."

* * *

People are just getting off work and are anxious to get a start on the weekend. The place is packed and the Sundowner crowd is lively. They somehow luck out, there's a table for two near the bar. They take a seat and take a quick look around, the patrons all appear to be hardworking tradesmen types. Luke decides to forgo the wine and order them each a beer. He smiles at her and signs, "We should try and fit in with the locals."

They have a lot to catch up on and as they sit sipping their beers they talk non-stop, using their hands, fingers, facial expressions and body language. She can sense people watching them but these days that doesn't bother her, not like when she was a kid. She understands most people are simply curious.

She and her friend have been happily visiting for about twenty minutes when he walks in. It's been a long time since she noticed a man the way she notices him. Not just his bearing or his looks, there's something more, something deeper. She finds she's having trouble taking her eyes off this man.

She nods her head ever so slightly as she thinks to herself, I know this guy. Not that she actually knows him, but she feels like she knows a thing or two about who he is.

He's propped up against the bar as he slowly, almost methodically drinks his beer. No one else in the place seems to see it, but she does. She's aware he's scanning the room, taking everything in. She also knows he won't approach anyone, he won't strike up a conversation with anyone. He's like her. Even in a crowd of people he's alone. He prefers it that way.

Yet she wishes his eyes would land on her.

He's rugged and unrefined. His hair is dark, hangs to his shoulders and there's no style to it. It looks like he barely takes the time to comb it. His shirt is well worn and even has a tear or two. He wears canvas work pants like Carhartts and big heavy boots, motorcycle boots. He's also wearing a black leather vest and there's a bandana that hangs from his back pocket. His build is muscular with broad and squared shoulders and his arms look strong and chiseled. Not like he works out at the gym. She'd bet those muscles come from hard labor.

There's something else though and it's what really hits her. He comes fully equipped with stone cold blue eyes. She's willing to bet there's some fire burning behind those icy baby blues.

Whoever he is he's all man. A living breathing hunk of solid man energy. No matter how hard she tries to, she can't quite look away.

She knows in her heart and in her mind, and above all in her gut, if they lock eyes it may not end well. If you open yourself up to another person something will go wrong. Something always does. That's how it seems. Still there's an undeniable something about the man that makes her think she'd be willing to take the chance.

Why does she feel these things so strongly about a man she doesn't even know? There's no logical answer to that question. It's simply the way it is.

00

All he's looking for this Friday night is to get home where it's quiet. Eat some pizza, work on drinking a six pack of beer and watch a halfway decent movie on the tube.

He's heading that way when something draws him to the neighborhood bar like a fucking magnet. He doesn't fight the feeling too hard. He gives in and he's thinking he'll just have one cold one, see what's going on and then get home to that pizza and beer.

He barely has a foot in the door when he spots her. Maybe it's the way her fingers, hands and arms all seem to be moving at once. It takes him just a second to realize she's speaking sign language. There's a guy there with her and he's speaking it back. They don't look much like a pair, but then you never know who's going to partner up with who.

He knows he shouldn't be checking her out when she's sitting with her man, but he's pretty good at being sneaky and he's sure the guy doesn't notice. He doesn't feel guilty about it, he isn't one to make a move on some other man's partner. He's just looking, but then that's just the thing, he can't seem to look away from her.

The fact that he feels so drawn to this woman has him confused. He hasn't been attracted to any woman since he lost his lady. She was his first love, his only love. When she was so violently taken from him he'd shut himself off completely. He vowed "never again." The loss was too great and the pain too unbearable.

He hasn't just built a wall around himself, he's built the whole damn fortress.

Then along comes this woman, a woman he doesn't know. They haven't even spoken and she also happens to be with another man. None of that seems to matter because he only had to take the first look at her to feel his armor begin to crack.

She's small, the word tiny comes to his mind. But just because she's small doesn't mean he thinks she looks weak. Not at all. She looks like she could be plenty tough and scrappy. He knows a thing or two from experience, like that strength doesn't mean just physical strength. She gives off that vibe.

She's a survivor. Whatever happened she's backed herself away from the world but she hasn't given up. He'd wager on it.

He's barely sipping on his beer; he isn't in a rush to get home anymore. He doesn't want to leave and leave her. From his spot at the bar and seemingly oblivious as he drinks his beer, he's observing everything about her.

She isn't all made up, just the opposite. She's all natural. Her skin has the deep warm amber tone of fine velvety smooth bourbon. The kind you sip real slow. Her eyes are the darkest brown he can ever recall seeing and they're bright and perceptive. Her hair's parted down the middle and cascades out in lush corkscrew curls. He's surprised when it hits him just how much he'd like to run his fingers through it and feel the soft texture of those curls.

Then it happens. Her and her boyfriend stand up, hug and walk out.

Shit. There's no reason left to hang around here. He drains the beer and digs in his pocket for his keys, but then he feels the hand on his elbow. He turns to look and it's her. He turns back toward the bar and asks, "Where's your boyfriend?"

She taps his shoulder and he glances at her again. This time she reaches an arm out toward him, her fingers almost touching his lips. She moves her hand back and points the two fingers at her own eyes. He wasn't thinking but he gets it now. She has to be able to see his lips to know what the hell he's saying.

He looks at her and asks again, "Where's your boyfriend? Ain't ya with that guy?"

She purses her lips, squints her eyes and shakes her head. Not like she's saying no, more like she's saying he's clueless. She pulls a small notepad from her hip pocket and a pen from her shirt pocket. He watches closely as she quickly writes it down, "He's not a boy, he's a man. He's my friend, not my lover."

He's not one to smile often but that almost gets him. He nods and then mouths, "Good. Ya want a beer?"

She quickly writes on the pad again, "You have to drive."

He's always a little defensive and her remark has him furrowing his brow as he asks, "What? Ya just here ta monitor my drinkin'?"

She writes, "You're driving. I don't have my car."

He isn't sure what to make of it all so he shifts the conversation, "What's your name?"

He watches as she writes, "Connie. What's yours?"

"Daryl. Where is it exactly I'll be drivin'?"

She writes, "My house? Your house? I don't like crowds."

Any other time and with any other woman and he would have thought, "Man, she don't waste no time gettin' right to it," but he doesn't think that with her. He's sure it's more than just a come on. He gets what she's saying too, she's like him. He doesn't care for crowds either. He looks in her eyes and asks, "Ya ready?"

She holds her hand up about shoulder high, makes a fist and bobs it up and down. He smiles, he gets it. She's saying yes. But he asks to be sure, "Yes?"

She smiles and makes the sign again.

He holds his hand on her back as they walk out the door and to his motorcycle. She sees it and her brows raise and she gives him a questioning look. He explains, "I came outta the house ta go ta work this mornin' and I had a flat tire. Instead of changin' it I brought the bike. Ya mind ridin'? It ain't far." She gives him a questioning look and pats her hand on her head.

He's already gotten a little high on the idea of taking her home with him, he doesn't want to risk her changing her mind, "Ya wear mine. Like I said, it ain't far."

She shrugs and bobs her fist again. He nods back and hands her the helmet. She's got it on, he fastens the strap and says, "Alright, ya ever been on a bike?" She signs "yes" again and he nods, climbs on and holds his hand out to her. She climbs up behind him, rests her hands on his hips and they're on their way.

As soon as he shuts down the bike he hears Dog barking, calling to him. He usually takes the animal to work with him, but not today. He needs to warn her.

She holds onto his shoulders to steady herself as she climbs off the bike, and then he's off and his hands are resting lightly on her shoulders as he explains, "I got a dog and he's a good one but he can be a little high strung, protective. He don't know ya. I'll walk in first then let him meet ya. He'll calm down after that."

Her eyebrows raise again but she tilts her head a little to the side and nods. She walks behind him, he opens the door and the dog greets him, but only for a moment. The animal skirts him and immediately goes to her. Not threatening in any way. He's acting like a puppy who wants affection. She gives it to him. She's down on her knees smiling and rubbing his back and behind his ears, petting and scratching him and letting him kiss her hand and her cheek.

Daryl watches and he's both shocked and amused by the animal's behavior. Never has Dog shown this manner of affection to anyone but him. He knows that just like him the dog sense's it, she's good people and they want her there.

She looks at her host and he smiles, "I guess we all like ya. Ya hungry? I's gonna order pizza."

He extends a hand to help her to her feet and she smiles and nods. He asks, "I's gonna get the all meat kind, is that okay?"

She's tilting her head side to side, she smiles and shrugs and he's got a feeling she'll eat it but it won't really be her thing. He calls and orders a large meat pizza and a medium vegetarian, but has them add chicken to it.

He clicks off the phone and he doesn't look at her when he asks, "Can we have beer now?" Then he realizes what he's done. He turns around and there she is, smiling. He knows that even though she couldn't hear him she knows what he's done. He smiles back at her, "Ya want a beer?"

"Yes," she signs the word.

He pops the cap off a beer, hands it to her and says, "Go on ahead and get comfortable in the front room. I gotta feed Dog." Then he adds, "The pizza place says it's gonna be 40 minutes. I got time for a quick shower, if ya don't mind. I been working all day."

She nods and waves her hand, "go, go."

What's surprising to them both is that although they're total strangers, they're doing and saying these everyday things as if they were together like this all the time.

* * *

She pulls off her ankle boots, sits cross-legged on the sofa and looks around. She likes his place, it's simple but comfortable. Overstuffed furniture, a big coffee table, wall-mounted TV, and a large area rug she's sure Dog must find quite nice, although there's also a dog bed for him. It's next to the fireplace and she notices there's a blanket and two chew toys in the bed. It brings another smile to her face. She knows she's right, Daryl is only bristly on the outside.

She picks up the TV controller and pushes the power. Flipping through the channels she sees there's an old Clint Eastwood movie set to start in fifteen minutes. It seems like something he might like and she would too. She checks and yes, closed captioning is available.

He comes back in the room and she's happy to note he does not smell like fancy bath products or cologne. He smells like soap. His hair is so wet it's like he didn't even bother to towel dry it, and he hasn't trimmed the facial hair either. He's barefoot, wearing an old pair of jeans and a worn t-shirt, clean yes, but worn. She doesn't mind any of it. She knows this is him, this is who he is and she appreciates he's not trying to be something he's not.

He's just about to sit with her when he turns and she knows it must be someone at the door. He carries the boxes over and sets them right on the coffee table. The medium one in front of her and the large one in front of himself. There's napkins and little packets of Parmesan cheese and dried crushed peppers.

She likes that he thought to get her something a little different, but she teases. She looks at him like he's given her a challenge, reaches in front of him and takes a slice of the meat pizza. He takes a long look at her and he has to do it, he's been dared. He takes a slice of the vegetarian. She nods her head, he nods his and they each take a bite.

They both get that first bite down, with the help of a huge swallow of beer. She's silently laughing when he holds out the rest of the slice to her and asks, "Trade?" And they do and they both realize, it's no big deal but it is a big deal. They're having fun.

She pushes the button on the controller and the movie begins, and he smiles. He always wondered about the closed captioning and now he's seeing it being put to good use. He looks at her when he sees it's Clint Eastwood in Pale Rider. Is she only trying to make him happy? She doesn't seem like the type who would do that, and he doesn't want her to try to just make him happy. He asks, "You like this? Cowboy stuff?"

She wipes her hands and writes it down, "I like him. I thought we would both like this." She shrugs and he looks at her and he knows, this is how life has to be. It's about the give and the take. He nods his head and relaxes into the moment and into spending time with this woman.

It's after the movie and they're still sitting there, but now they're looking at each other. For the first time he touches her in an innocent ye intimate way. He's letting his finger softly and slowly glide along her jawline and he tells her his truth, "I'm broken. I been stayin' clear of people for a while."

She doesn't write it down, she doesn't think she needs to. She points to herself, nods her head and mouths two words, "Me too."

He bites his lip, nods and tells her, "A woman."

She nods, holds her arms as if she's holding a baby and mouths, "A child."

That's all it takes and his arms are wrapping around her. She's not resisting, she holds him as tightly as he's holding her. Besides the warmth and the comfort there's something more they feel in this embrace. It's the need they've been denying, the need they didn't want to feel. The powerful need for human contact. They've both ignored it for so long.

Now, as the credits play and they hold each other close they know they've come to a silent agreement. There is no need for words, they each understand. They've surrendered.

He draws away, just far enough that she can read the question on his lips, "Will you stay with me?"

She closes her eyes just briefly as she nods and signs, "Yes."

He stands, turns off the TV and holds a hand out to her and she stands with him. He calls, "Dog, now." And he continues holding her hand as they walk to the backdoor and the dog goes about his outside business. Again it strikes him, it's already so comfortable. So settled. He's not use to this feeling of peace but now he's aware it's just what he's always craved in his life, and she's already begun to give it to him.

She likes this, the quietness and serenity of being with this man. It's not the absence of sound, she already lives with that. It's a different kind of quiet. It comes in her knowing that although they don't know each other at all they understand everything about one another.

The dog runs in and straight to his bed, he has his routine too.

Daryl turns to her, caressing her slim face in his strong hands. He leans in and their lips meet and the kiss they share is warm, sensual and open to more. He takes her hand again as he leads her to his room.

She likes it, it's like the rest of his house. It's like him. Everything is manly and a little rustic. The big wood dresser, the wood night tables and most of all the oversized wood frame bed.

They're standing by the big bed and again he holds her face in his hands. He asks, "Ya sure?"

She nods both her head and her fist, and then she points at him and mouths her question, "You?"

He smiles and he also nods both his head and his fist, and then he's kissing her again. This kiss in harder, his tongue is in her mouth and his hands slowly slide down her back until he tightly clutches her butt.

She's mimicking his moves, her hands rubbing his back over the soft fabric of the worn t-shirt. Then she feels them. The skin that has thickened and raised runs in jagged lines across his back. Scars. They don't bother her, she knows all about scars. These scars just happen to be on the outside.

Soon her hands are clutching onto his ass and they're pulling one another as close as they can, slowly rubbing their bodies together as they feel the thrill of first encounters.

He draws back and the fire she knew was in him is now evident in those blue eyes. The eyes that have gone from stone cold to burning hot. He seems to pause and then he cradles her face once more, touches his forehead to hers and she can feel him make a sound. She thinks it's a groan or a hum. The he pulls back just far enough to kiss her forehead and slip the shirt off her shoulders. She doesn't seem to mind that it's on the floor.

She's still wearing her tank top and she watches as he opens the buckle on her belt and then begins to unbutton her pants. There's something so sexy about the way his big rough hands so deftly manage those buttons. It's such a turn on she feels the need to see more of his body.

He stops what he's doing when she lays a hand on his arm and concern is in his eyes. She smiles and he's relieved, and then he's smiling himself as she takes the bottom of his shirt in her hands and begins to pull it up and off him. He helps, grabbing a handful of fabric, pulling the shirt off and tossing it on the floor with her shirt. He looks in her eyes and says the word, "Scars."

She nods, reaches around him and softly rubs her hands over his back. She draws away just a little and now she is the one to cradle his face in her hands. She leans up on her toes and guides him down so that their lips touch.

They kiss again and he knows she gets it. It's not about the scars that can be seen and felt.

He reaches for the hem of her tank top and pulls it over her head and off. She smiles at him as she cups her breasts in her hands, but not in an attempt to hide them from him. It's more like "here they are for you."

He smiles too as his leans in and kisses one, then he looks at her and mouths the word, "perfect," and to him they are. He loves the deep amber color of her skin, the fullness and roundness of her breasts and the dark taut nipples. He caresses one of them in his hand, kisses her lips, and then covers her other breast with his mouth.

Her body starts to sway a little and there are soft humming noises coming from somewhere deep inside her. It's almost more of a vibration and it turns him on as he continues to enjoy the taste and the feel of her breast in his mouth, ans she enjoys the feel of his tongue flicking across her nipple while he sucks hard at her breast. Not so hard that it hurts, just hard enough to let her know he likes doing what he's doing.

Her hands move to his jeans and she's thinking he's old school, they're button up 501's. She likes that about him though. And she likes him, and she wants to take the jeans off of him. She has the buttons quickly undone and she glides her hands down inside the waistband. She's not surprised by the lack of underwear as she's slipping them off his hips.

He pulls back and looks at her breasts as if eyeing the grand prize, while he slowly and teasingly draws circles around her nipples with his finger. He looks up and into her eyes while his hands slide down her torso and slip into her pants. When they're down to midthigh he bends over. He's happy to see she's natural, he likes the feel of her soft curls as he kisses and caresses her mound.

He stands straight, easily lifts her and sets her on the bed.

He quickly has her pants all the way off and his own too, and he drops to his knees in front off her. His strong hands are reaching behind her and while he's pulling her bottom closer to the edge she's rubbing the tight muscles of his arms. She's never been particularly turned on by muscles and brawn, but the way physical strength oozes from every part of this man excites her.

He slips those strong arms under her thighs and she's grasping his hair as he buries his mouth in her pussy, his tongue and his lips know right where to go and she can feel the sounds he's making. He's groaning and her knowing he's enjoying what he's doing for her makes it feel even better.

He feels the vibration of her body and she's squirming while she's pulling his hair like she wants him to go deeper. He tries, he wants to. He thinks he'll never be able to taste and feel enough of her.

He senses her getting close to letting go and in this moment there's nothing he wants more than to get her there. He wants her to feel and to know that right now nothing is more important to him than pleasing her. He wants to feel and taste her cum and know he was able to satisfy her.

She hasn't let herself lose control in any way for a very long time. She's been telling herself it's a sign of strength, but here with him now she realizes she wasn't being strong at all. She was trying too hard to control life rather than allowing herself to enjoy it.

This man. This man is the one she wants to let herself go for, the one she wants to lose herself to for this sweet wonderful moment. He's sucking her clit and pinching her nipple and she lets it happen, she loses herself to the feeling he gives her. She cums and he pulls her even closer as he licks away at the proof of what they've just done, and she feels him moaning in pleasure at the indulgence.

He's standing and he scoops her up in his arms, laying her back on the bed, smiling as his body moves between her legs. His hands are placed on either side of her head, palms flat and arms extended as he looks down at her, nods and smiles. She nods and smiles back. They don't exchange words, they haven't needed them. Still he promises himself he'll do his best to learn to speak her language.

He's kissing her now and she's tasting and smelling herself on his lips, his tongue and the scruff of his face. She likes it, likes that he doesn't shy away from what comes naturally when people make love. Her hands are back in his hair and she kisses him hungrily. She wants him to know what comes naturally also brings her pleasure.

She places her hands on his chest pushing him back and he thinks he knows her intentions as he rolls over. She kisses her way down his broad chest, enjoying the tight muscles and the narrow hips with the perfect little dips.

She takes him in her hand, she wants to feel him and taste him, just as he's done with her. There's something else to it too, she wants this man to know she is not a selfish lover.

She's kissing and nuzzling along his pubic bone as she slowly strokes his cock. She likes everything about it, the size of it, the smoothness of his skin and she likes the feel of it responding to her.

She lets her tongue tease the tip of it while his fingers thread into her hair. He's not forcing, not pushing or holding her there, he's just moving with her as she licks and sucks at the shaft, and then he's in her mouth. His body is moving and again she feels him moaning, and she feels her own body respond. It surprises her that she's getting so turned on turning him on, but the proof is there as she feels the wetness between her legs.

He's loving what she's doing and never has it felt more right to have a woman's mouth around his cock this way, but there's something else he wants with her more than this. He raises his upper body off the bed, almost completely bent in half at the waist. She stops what she's doing, thinking something must be wrong as she turns to look at him.

He smiles as he reaches under her arms and pulls her close, kissing her so deeply and tenderly as he lays her on her back. He flops on his back and she sees he's getting something from the drawer of the night table. She almost laughs, he's prepared. That's good.

He rolls back over placing the foil packet on the bed next to her. His mouth goes to her breast and she feels her body quickly responding to his touch. His hand seems to glide as it moves down over her flat tummy and her mound, until it reaches the warm skin of her inner thighs where he uses the rough pads of his fingers to softly tickle and tease. The touch and the texture both have her senses quivering, and then his finger slips inside her.

Her hips rise seeking him, wanting to feel him inside of her. He's as hungry for her as she is for him and his finger strokes rapidly while his thumb rubs on her clit.

Her body is squirming again, her hips are in motion and now she's tugging at him. He's not making either of them wait any longer. He tears open the packet, wonders if the damn this is even still good. It's been so long. He begins to roll it on, then stops and looks at her and they share a smile, her small hands have taken over.

He's kneeling between her legs teasing her just a little bit more as he plays with her nipples. Making her wait. She teases back pretending to take a swing at him. This woman, she makes him laugh and she makes him so fucking glad to be alive. He nods his head and she raises her knees inviting him and he slides into her.

He's moving inside her in a slow steady rhythm. She feels so damn good to him and he doesn't want to rush, he wants to enjoy this with her for as long as he can. He props himself on one elbow, let's his fingers slowly push imaginary hairs from her face and when he smiles she sees it in his eyes, just as he sees it in her eyes, genuine happiness.

His strokes are becoming more intense as he pushes himself deeper into her and she wraps her legs around him as her hips keep in rhythm with his. Her hands are grasping at his arms and at his back, and he feels that noise that's somewhere in her body. He knows he's groaning too and he knows that somehow she senses that.

He slides his hands under her, grabbing her ass and raising her low body. He kisses her mouth then licks and sucks his way to her breast. What he's done, the way he's lifted her is causing intense friction as his pubic bone rubs on her clit.

She feels her body tremble and quiver and as she begins to lose control completely and she's aware of his body stiffening. He's pumping into her so fast and hard and she thinks it must be what an earthquake feels like when together they surrender completely.

He doesn't leave her, run off to clean himself or whatever it is men jump up to do. Not him, not this man. He's there with her as they come down off their high, trying to catch their breath and not wanting this moment of profound intimacy to abruptly end. He's kissing her face and her collarbone and smoothing his hand over her hair.

Then everything stops, he's not moving at all. It's like he's frozen in place. He looks into her eyes like he wants to remember everything about her and the moment. Then he asks his question, "Will ya stay Connie? Please will ya stay here with me from now on?"

She doesn't hesitate. She says it with a sign and with a nod of her head, "yes."

00

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading along. I hope you enjoyed Surrender and that you'll leave a comment or review. I have a Daryl and Connie tumblr blog, fortheloveofdonnie, please check it out. If I hear from you that you like what I've done, I'll be back with more Donnie stories soon. For now remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee


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